


Sunday

by PastaBucket



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: Creepy, Emotional, Fridge Horror, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:28:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21759079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastaBucket/pseuds/PastaBucket
Summary: Poetic creepypasta.Just felt inspired.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=euVxf0Zcv5I





	Sunday

The town street is bustling with daily activity, pedestrians - a woman in a summer dress, a boy listening to the music from his earbuds - and the occational car on their separate ways toward their casual and appointed errands. It's Sunday.

The men sit slumped in their office chairs, engaged in social discussions at their leisure. Barely anyone is watching their appointed consoles because there's nothing really going on. They feel like caged animals being there on a Sunday, but once their get relieved, they have wives and girlfriends to attend to.

The most excluded man throws a casual glance back at his screen, then frowns and sits up straight as the colleague next to him laughs at an off-color joke. His facial expression slowly changes to that of disbelief.

He turns to his colleague and taps the shoulderpad of his suit to call his attention. It takes a while before he gets it. Grugdingly his colleague rolls over to his monitor as the first man points to something on it. As they both watch, the colleagues around them stop talking and stop what they're doing. A silence falls upon the room as they gather around the first.

As they watch, the joy drains from their faces. A protest is raised, and then another.

In the street more and more pedestrians begin to raise their heads and slowly come to a halt as they look up at the clear summer sky. One by one, they are discovering a new sense of purpose - a togetherness they've never felt before: It's Sunday.

Behind them a man enters the large room. He closes the door behind him and starts making his way toward them, a bunch of signed papers in hand. The men all look up from the console with upset expressions. Only one of them has enough sensibility to salute him.

The man stands before them, holding out the papers before them, and explaining their meaning to them. Before him disbelief turns to outrage. One from his audience approaches him with a raised voice as his colleagues try to pull him back to his place. Before he gets pulled back, he sweeps the papers from the man's hand, and they sail to the floor.

The paper man screams back at the insolent one, and he finally pulls back and covers before the paper man's authority. Only one of the men are retreating back to their consoles. The rest are frozen in place, not really knowing what to do. More men raise their voices. Some side with the paper man. Others side against him. The angry men begin to shout and gesture at eachother. Neither side brought a gun. It isn't long before a punch is thrown, and soon the whole room is in upheaval, as human nature overtakes chain of command.

Flocking together across the street, the pedestrians look up at the summer sky, as their hands instinctively seek eachothers in a unity they've never experienced before. The girl in the summer dress seek the slack-jawed boys hand, as he pulls his earbuds from his ears with the other. Soon they've all joined hands, waiting.

It's Sunday.


End file.
